Drama King

I can't help but laugh at Solomon several times per week. He is so dramatic about illness and injury that he becomes convinced he is knocking at death's door on a regular basis. He just came to me, gasping for breath, and wrote a note that says, "Samuel brok my ryb. He hit me with his nakel." When asked what a 'nakel' is, he croaked, "His knuckle." I laughed and he made a face of impotent fury.

Now he is lying on the sofa with an ice pack on his side and looking very sorry for himself. For the record, he provoked Samuel into wrestling and he doesn't even have a red mark on his skin.

Last night we had dinner at Chick-Fil-A and Solomon refused to eat anything from the fruit cups I had ordered. He was anxious to go play with his siblings and cousins but I told him he had to choose 5 pieces of fruit to eat first. He nibbled on half an apple chunk and claimed it had given him a headache.

Solomon once told me his appendix had just exploded. I told him that if that had happened, he'd have been lying on the floor writhing in agony. He let it drop then, but he called me at work the next day and said, "This time I'm sure my appendix exploded. I can feel it." I had him jump up and down and when I didn't hear screaming I felt pretty sure he was okay. It's a good thing I'm not as much a hypochondriac as he is, or we would be in the doctor's office every other day.